A Near Fatal Attraction The Tony and Gibbs Story
by tutncleo
Summary: The boys go to Hollywood where fluffy slash ensues. Be warned - this is pure, silly slash. Tony/Gibbs pairing.


_**An Almost Fatal Attraction**_

**Hollywood!** They were going to **Hollywood**!

"Movie stars, great cars and bars!" Tony had been chanting in McGee's ear for the better part of an hour, as they waited for their flight at the airport. The call had come in that morning, asking for their help after a second sailor from Bethesda had turned up dead on the back lot of one of the movie studios in L.A. When Gibbs had delivered the , "pack your bags," order, Tony had practically danced around the bullpen, with childlike glee. Even McGee's reminder that two sailors were dead, did little to dampen Tony's excitement. Gibbs had given them two hours to get home, pack, and meet back at the airstrip where they were going to catch a ride with a transport flight. So there they were, two hours later, waiting at the naval terminal.

Tony was dressed in silk tan pants, a cream linen blazer, a light blue shirt and the darkest pair of sunglasses McGee had ever seen. He looked much more like an actor, than a federal agent. As a matter of fact, McGee thought, if Tony ever needed another undercover identity, this would be a good one. As much as it killed him to admit it, Tony was as handsome as most movie stars, with his sparkling green eyes, bright white teeth, and contagious smile, that even Gibbs wasn't completely impervious to. Women and men alike, had a tendency to make fools of themselves around him. McGee envied that. Not that I do badly, he told himself, but people always had to get to know him first, before they saw past his geek image. Abby once said he was like black coffee – an acquired taste. People had to get around the initial sourness, before they learned to appreciate the depth and richness. Of course, she had ruined the compliment, when she then pointed out that Tony was like ice cream - everyone screams for ice cream.

Tony was now chatting up some young service woman, who, even though dressed in camouflage, was preening as if she were a high school girl, who was trying to signal to a boy that she would be more than receptive to a kiss. Tony bent down, touching her shoulder lightly and brushing her hair away from her face, as he whispered something in her ear; somehow Tony made those simple gestures look almost obscene. The woman laughed low and seductively in response to whatever he had said, arched her back, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. McGee turned away in disgust.

McGee wasn't the only one who had been watching Tony. Gibbs sat on a bench, crossword puzzle book on his lap, pencil in hand; unable to focus on the partially completed puzzle, too busy covertly observing Tony's flirting. It was like looking at a car wreck, he told himself; you don't want to look, but you can't help yourself. He had gotten so that the everyday Tony didn't usually distract him, sending his mind places it was better not to venture towards, but Tony, all decked out, pouring on the charm, was another story. The flirting didn't mean anything. It was all a game with Tony, something as innate to him as breathing. Gibbs knew that, but jealousy eroded his well cultivated indifference and finally, unable to help himself, he growled, "DiNozzo, don't you have something case related you should be doing? What about the background information I asked you to compile?"

Christ, now the smile was aimed at me, he thought, when Tony turned towards him, grinning, and said, "Already done and emailed to you, Boss. Hard copies are in a file on the top of your duffle bag." Gibbs couldn't think clearly, wanting to wipe that smile off Tony's face with his own mouth, turn it into kiss swollen lips, parted to allow for moans of pleasure. Gibbs could feel himself getting hard.

"Boss?" Tony was asking, the smile gone, and lips now pursed in speculation, as he looked at Gibbs.

Then, almost as if testing a theory, the minute he had Gibbs' attention, Tony smiled again. "Did you want me to get it for you?" he asked teasingly, taking a few steps towards Gibbs, leaving the now pouting woman behind.

Gibbs had trapped himself. He didn't want to look at the file, but he was the one who had brought it up. Not trusting himself to speak, since apparently he had no control over what was going to come out, he merely nodded, and repositioned the crossword magazine, in an attempt to hide his erection. He couldn't get up, not until he had his traitorous body back under control, he thought, as he watched Tony saunter, no make that strut, over to their pile of luggage, and pull the file for Gibbs. That didn't help his predicament. Tony then walked over to Gibbs, and handed him the folder.

"Thanks," Gibbs managed to grunt out.

"Want me to give you a run down on the highlights?" Tony asked, as he slid his jacket off, tossing it onto the chair next to Gibbs.

A rundown would be good, Gibbs thought, not referring to the file, as he watched Tony begin to roll up his sleeves. The shirt he was wearing had been tailored, and the fabric molded to him, forming an ice blue, second skin that accentuated Tony's narrow hips and broad shoulders. Once he had rearranged himself, Tony started rattling off all the pertinent information on the two sailors who had been killed. Gibbs forced himself to focus on what Tony was saying, using the time to regain his equilibrium. By the time Tony was done, he felt more in control. He even managed to ask a couple of questions, not surprised when Tony could answer them without even having to reference the dossiers in the file. That was what really did it for him about Tony – he was so much more than just another pretty face, underneath all the posturing and pretending, Tony was one of the smartest, intuitive agents Gibbs had ever worked with. When you mixed that with his handsome exterior, Gibbs felt like a bee, circling a jar of honey.

The Airbus arrived then, ending Gibbs' torture, as the team concentrating on stowing their luggage, and strapping themselves in. Tony managed to position himself into the seat next to Gibbs. Once they were air born, he leaned in close to Gibbs and launched into a long story about the last time he had been in L.A., which centered on an aspiring actress and Venice Beach. McGee fell asleep, mid rant, and in an attempt to make Tony shut up and back away, Gibbs forced his eyes closed, as well. Tony's voice faded as his audience dwindled, and eventually Gibbs could hear sleep induced, soft, measured breathing. Opening his eyes back up, Gibbs studied the now sleeping agent. Tony's face was relaxed, making him look closer to 17, rather than 37. His head had tilted to the side, exposing the length of his tanned neck, and Gibbs found himself wondering what it would taste like, and how Tony sounded when someone nibbled and sucked on it. Before Gibbs could indulge that fantasy any further, Tony shifted in his seat, and suddenly his head landed on Gibbs' shoulder. Gibbs froze and had to remind himself to breathe. His first instinct was to push Tony away, but knew that would wake him up, thereby inviting a continuation of Tony's diatribe. And then there was the sad truth – the fact that Gibbs enjoyed having Tony that close, able to feel his heat and smell the fresh, minty aroma that always wafted after Tony. Sentencing himself to martyrdom, Gibbs let him sleep on, both relieved and oddly bereft when Tony shifted away an hour later.

The rest of the flight was uneventful, and five hours later they found themselves standing in the lobby of the hotel. There had been a mix up in the room reservations and Gibbs and Tony found themselves sharing a suite, while McGee inherited a broom closet sized single room. Arrangements were made to meet for dinner, at which time Gibbs would outline the plan for the investigation, and Tony and Gibbs went up to their room.

The suite was large, containing a graciously appointed sitting room, with two adjoining bedrooms and a shared bath. Gibbs sighed in relief when he saw that he wouldn't have to share a bedroom with Tony. Once their bags were stowed away, Tony asked if Gibbs minded if he took a shower, and Gibbs waved him on. Minutes later, Tony emerged from the bathroom, draped only in a towel. Gibbs heart threatened to seize up.

"Forgot my razor," he explained to Gibbs, as he headed back into his bedroom to fetch it.

Gibbs watched out of the corner of his eye, when Tony returned, and went back into the bath. Twenty minutes later, Tony was back out, once again wearing only a towel wrapped low on his hips. This time he sauntered into the kitchenette area.

"Want me to put on a pot of coffee, Boss?" he asked, as he leaned against the counter, facing Gibbs.

Gibbs looked at him. Tony's hair was still damp, and little ringlets were forming around the base of his neck. His skin still retained a slight pinkish glow from the heat of the water. Swallowing, so that he could speak, Gibbs said, "Sounds good," then tore his eyes off Tony, and forced them back to the notes he was going over. Tony meandered back to his room to dress, while the coffee percolated. When the pot was full, Gibbs helped himself, hoping the coffee would help him regain his perspective.

At dinner, Gibbs explained that the L.A. branch was convinced the killer was somehow involved with the television crew for the soap opera that filmed on the lot where the bodies had been discovered. A cover had been established for Tony, and he was going to go undercover as a bit actor for the episode being filmed over the next two days. Gibbs was going to be a visiting executive for the studio and McGee, his assistant. That would get them all onto set, and interacting with all the people there. Tony was inordinately pleased about his cover. McGee rolled his eyes, remembering his earlier musings about Tony.

The next two days went by in a blur. Tony was a major hit with the actors for the show, fitting right in. He flirted with one and all; male, female – it didn't matter. Gibbs stood to the side all day, each day watching the proceedings with suppressed anger and jealousy. Tony cracked jokes, teased and flaunted himself. The actresses clung to his arms and waist and several of the actors seemed unable to keep from groping his ass. They even got around to filming Tony's two scenes, and Gibbs wasn't surprised to discover that Tony was a more than competent actor. While not on the set, Tony snooped.

In their downtime, Tony made Gibbs' life miserable. He seemed to have an aversion to wearing clothes when not in public. In the hotel room, he alternated between sweatpants tied loosely at his hips and no shirt on, or gym shorts and a tight athletic t-shirt. Gibbs began to spend a lot of time down in the hotel coffee shop.

Finally on Friday, the third day of the undercover mission, Tony discovered the wallet of one of the dead soldiers in the office of an assistant director. After that, the case unraveled quickly. The A.D. had a fetish for sailors, and had been picking them up online for the last couple of years. Unfortunately for the sailors, the A.D. also had a few kinks, one of which had led to the accidental strangulation of the two men from Bethesda. The L.A. NCIS office was so appreciative of the team's help that they offered to pay for two more nights at the hotel, allowing Gibbs and crew to spend the weekend in California. Much to Tony and McGee's amazement, Gibbs took them up on the offer, saying it would give him some time to visit with Callen and his new team.

Saturday morning, Gibbs told Tony he would be gone all day, but would see him that night, and was almost relieved when Tony said he had made plans and might not be back until Sunday. Gibbs took himself off, eager to put some space between himself and Tony. By noon, Gibbs was getting bored. Callen's team had been called out unexpectedly, and Gibbs found himself with nothing to do. Deciding he might as well use the time to catch up on paperwork, he headed back to the hotel.

Sliding his keycard into the lock, Gibbs let himself into the suite. As he shut the door, he came to a dead stop. Tony sat on the sofa, the lead actor from the soap opera straddling his lap. The actor had his hand entwined in Tony's hair, pulling his head back and exposing his neck, which the actor was in the process of devouring. Tony's eyes were closed; his parted lips were wet and bruised. His chest exposed from his open shirt, which had been pushed off his shoulders. He looked like the personification of debauchery.

That was it for Gibbs. Something inside him snapped, and all of his carefully constructed and reinforced resolve crumbled. He made a sound that was a cross between clearing one's throat and growling, causing the actor to jump and whirl his head towards the door. Grabbing a jacket that he didn't recognize off of the floor, Gibbs hurled it at the actor, and roared, "Get out."

The actor didn't need to be told twice. The door slammed shut behind him.

Tony sat on the sofa, too stunned to move or speak. He was just about to start offering up an excuse, when Gibbs launched himself at him, straddling Tony and filling the now vacant space on Tony's lap. Gibbs reached out and yanked Tony's head back slightly, then sealed his mouth over his, in a rough and demanding kiss. The small part of Gibbs' brain that was still functioning properly, registered on the moment that Tony moved from merely submitting, to becoming an active participant in the kiss. That was what Gibbs needed to know. Forcing his tongue into Tony's mouth, he let his sheer need to possess take over. Gibbs kissed Tony until he was gasping for breath and clutching wildly onto Gibbs' shoulders, and then he moved down onto Tony's neck.

Gibbs felt the need to mark Tony, repeatedly and all over his body. Pushing Tony's shirt off the rest of the way, Gibbs moved from Tony's neck to his collar bone, kissing, licking and sucking, noting each time he found a spot Tony was particularly sensitive to. As Tony started to moan softly when Gibbs chewed lightly at the join between his neck and shoulder, Gibbs sucked and then bite harder. Tony's hips bucked up into Gibbs in response. Tony now had one hand woven into the Gibbs hair, pushing slightly to hold him in place. When Gibbs felt Tony's other hand slide down to touch his own crotch, Gibbs batted it away, pulling his head away from Tony's neck, and said, "Mine!"

Gibbs reached out, and grabbed both of Tony's wrists, pushing them up and onto the back of the sofa. Then, holding them there, he bent down and took one of Tony's nipples into his mouth. He alternated licking and biting them, enjoying the way Tony's breath stuttered and the small whimpers that escaped his mouth. When the abused nipples were so over- sensitized that merely breathing on them caused Tony to gasp and arch up, Gibbs released Tony's hands and said, "Bedroom, now."

Tony didn't need to be told twice. As soon as Gibbs was off him, he rose to his feet, lacking his usual grace, and headed directly towards his room. He got just a few steps, before Gibbs said, "My bed," causing him to twirl and head to the other room. When he stepped through the door, Gibbs grabbed him from behind and pressed into him, once again reaching into his hair, pulling his head back. Tipping Tony's head to the side, so that he could claim his mouth, Gibbs kissed him hard. Then released his hold and gave a gently push.

"Strip," Gibbs ordered, hungry to see the part of Tony the towel and sweatpants had denied him for the last three days.

Tony took a few steps closer to the bed, and removed his jeans in one fluid motion. There was nothing else to take off. He stood and looked at Gibbs, his pupils so blown with lust that his eyes appeared to be black. Gibbs stepped towards him and pushed him down on the bed, covering him with his still clothed body. He grabbed Tony's arms, and placed them over his head. "Leave them," he commanded, as he removed his hands so that they could begin an exploration of Tony's whole body. He continued the slow oral torture he had begun on the sofa, working his way from Tony's mouth, down his entire body, only avoiding Tony's engorged and weeping cock. When Tony was finally writhing and moaning, Gibbs sucked his penis into his mouth in one continuous motion. Tony's back arched completely off the bed and he screamed. Gibbs began to roll his tongue around the sensitive head, sucking and stroking at the base with a hand; his own cock so hard and hungry it ached. Ignoring the demands of his own body, Gibbs continued in his quest to claim every inch of Tony.

When Gibbs could wait no longer, he released Tony's cock from his mouth and pushed up to look down at Tony's face. His eyes were mere slights, and his face was flushed red. His bottom lip had small droplets of blood on it from where Tony had bit down on it, and a light coating of perspiration made his skin shine like satin. Gibbs bent down to claim Tony's mouth once more, in a long deep kiss, then he pushed way and stood, quickly removing his own clothes. He then leaned over and opened the drawer to the bedside table, withdrawing lube and a condom that he had put there on the first night, more from instinct than hope. He held them up and looked at Tony for affirmation; when Tony spread his legs wide, arms still raised over his head - open and waiting, Gibbs took that as his answer.

Sliding the condom on, Gibbs climbed back on the bed, repositioning himself between Tony's legs. Coating the condom and his fingers with lube, Gibbs slowly slid a finger into Tony's waiting heat, teasing his way in slowly. Tony made a small mewling sound and pressed down onto Gibbs' hand, attempting to impale himself more thoroughly. Gibbs pulled back slightly, keeping the penetration shallow and light. When Tony tried again to force the penetration, Gibbs reached up, grabbing his hips, and said huskily, "Be still, let me." Gibbs could feel Tony will his body into compliance, and he smiled in satisfaction.

Then slowly and methodically, he opened Tony up, preparing him thoroughly, with first one finger, then another. Occasionally, he would graze Tony's prostrate, just to watch him thrust and hear him moan. Finally, he knew he could wait no longer, and he removed his fingers. Climbing up Tony's body, he aligned himself, and slid all the way into Tony, in one hard, continuous motion. Tony's legs flew up, and wrapped around Gibbs, pulling him even deeper. Then Gibbs began to move. He plunged and withdrew, over and over again, his rhythm speeding up to match his growing need. Tony' body matching every thrust, their hips locked in a dance of need and desire. Finally, when he knew he was close, Gibbs reached down, encircling Tony's penis, his hand sliding up and down, pulling and squeezing. He leaned down more, once again kissing and biting on Tony's neck. Tony's whimpers turned to loud moans, until finally, pushing hard into Gibbs' hand, he gave a small howl, and came all over their conjoined stomachs. Gibbs pulled up slightly, thrust twice more deeply, letting the contraction of Tony's orgasm pull his own from his body.

Totally spent, Gibbs collapsed down on top of Tony. They lay there, lost in the last waves of pleasure, struggling for breath. Finally Gibbs recovered enough to raise his head off Tony's shoulder, and catch his lips in a softer kiss. Raising his head, Tony rewarded him with a beautiful, honest smile. And then Tony spoke - for the first time in over an hour.

"Guess I just kissed my acting career goodbye."

Gibbs didn't answer. He just reached up, took Tony's face in both his hands, and kissed him again.


End file.
